


Let the Lights Climb

by lordy_lou



Series: Interim [5]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, waterbed jumping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 21:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19342966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordy_lou/pseuds/lordy_lou
Summary: Just live, she’d said to him, right before Vecna.  Live, and you’ll find out.  Just live.Well.  Scanlan had lived, despite the god’s best efforts.Pike Trickfoot invites herself into Scanlan's room.(Or: what happened during the waterbed party?)





	Let the Lights Climb

 

_he said:_

_look how the sun comes up over the world_

_the streets, the land, the snow._

 

—

 

It isn’t normal for Scanlan to stammer, really, but as he flounders through asking Pike what room she’ll be sleeping in she can’t help but to raise an eyebrow. 

 

Had it been the old Scanlan, she’d have thought it a graceless come-on, an invitation for debauchery and a good time.Instead, he cuts off her half-done response - _I was thinking so, but…_ \- with only a few more halting words.He offers cool water to be sent to her rooms, a godsend after the howling, dusty wind.

 

There’s something about the hand at the back of his neck, she thinks.A new sort of tell, along with this abnormal stuttering.She hadn’t finished her sentence, after the _but._

 

Even then, she’s not sure what she would have said. _But what, Pike?_

 

_Just live_ , she’d said to him, right before Vecna.Live, and you’ll find out.Just live.

 

Well.Scanlan had lived, despite the god’s best efforts.

 

His hand is still nervously rubbing along the back of his neck, mussing his ponytail beyond what the winds had accomplished, and he’s doing his dogged best to look her in the eye and failing for the most part.Grog is watching their conversation with poorly disguised attention, while the rest of the talls are chatting with each other over the feast.

 

She takes a little breath in. _Just live._

 

Then, Pike Trickfoot goes on the offensive, although she wouldn’t call it that, and easily invites herself into Scanlan’s room. 

 

—

 

He’d been absolutely right: it was an obnoxiously heart-shaped bed, resplendent with purple silk sheets, bed hangings and - how did you even get a four-poster heart-shaped bed? Well, no, counting them only came up with three, but still, the intent was _there_.

 

Pike hasn’t actually been _in_ his room in the mansion before, now that she thinks about it: they’d talked outside the door of her room, they’d had conversations in the hallways and in the kitchen and dining room, in the foyer… but never once in his room.This room has at least three fainting couches, all in different shades of purple.

 

She thinks of the last time she walked into Scanlan’s rooms, and can only think of Whitestone, of the pudding and bonds and the shouting and tears.

 

Quickly, Pike shakes her head to scatter the memory.Scanlan is frozen by the door, dark eyes wide in the low lighting of his room - a multitude of candles, of course, because why wouldn’t it be?

 

“Yes?” she says, tilting her head. _Just live._ Scanlan is still quiet, and his gaze is flickering everywhere, as if he’s trying to capture every detail of the scene.“Scanlan?”

 

He blinks once, twice, and his hand flies to the back of his neck.“Right.Sorry.Jumping!Jumping on the bed.Uh.Do you…”

 

Pike waits to let him gather his thoughts, and Scanlan moves away from the door.He’s walking cautiously, slowly, until he’s a comfortable few feet from her - too far, really, and there’s something inside of Pike’s chest that snarls at the distance.She smiles at him instead, and gestures to him to finish.

 

“Pike, you know I love you in all your metallic glory, but your armor will _absolutely_ fuck up my bed.”

 

Oh.

 

That thing inside Pike’s chest grins wickedly, and before she can stop herself she finds herself saying — “Well, why don’t you help me out of it, then?”

 

This is so very odd, she thinks.Odd to watch him be the one to blush, odd to watch him take in a deep breath through his nose - no, no, that’s familiar, that’s the sound he made before starting on a difficult flute line. 

 

To soften the blow, Pike smiles, and reaches out her gauntleted hand.“I can do it myself, but it’s easier with another.Then, Scanlan Shorthalt, we will jump on your bed.”She waggles her fingers, and the metal of the gauntlet clanks noisily in the room.

 

Scanlan looks her dead in the eyes, and his stare is so intense that Pike finds herself blushing as well. _A couple of red-faced fools,_ she thinks, and she almost begins to pull back her gauntlet before Scanlan steps into her space fully and starts removing her right vambrace. 

 

He is silent as he unbuckles the straps, and she can feel the hint of his touch on her arms through her leathers. Before he’d be babbling, attempting to fill the room with a desperate touch of noise. 

 

Really, Scanlan wasn’t all that loud all the time.Sure, he could make himself heard, but during large discussions, he’d bide his time to throw in or reject a suggestion, rarely making much conversation aside from small conversations with Grog or Vex.Mostly he’d let Percy and the other tall folk do their planning, and he’d only speak up when an idea was so unbelievably stupid it couldn’t be allowed. 

 

His most noise was… well, largely charming people, or singing, or honking around on the shawm just to piss people off.He’d hummed other his breath, too, to the detriment of any kind of stealthy movement.

 

In the silence, Pike suddenly yearns for this noise, and stops herself to wonder if it’s because she misses his music, or because she’s scared of what the silence - of this unwavering focus - might bring.

 

Swallowing, Pike lifts her left hand and clumsily - she’d normally take off her gauntlets _first -_ starts to work on the buckles of her right pauldron. 

 

It’s hard work, and she can’t quite get it before Scanlan stops her.Places a hand on top of her gauntlet and looks at her again with that intense stare.Gently turns her hand over, palm-up, and undoes the clasps of the gauntlet, freeing her left hand for use.

 

Softly, so softly, runs a calloused fingertip across the deepest lines on her palm, slow and unwavering, rough skin catching against her own battle-won blisters. 

 

Pike feels her mouth go dry, and Scanlan whispers the quietest healing word she’s ever heard from him, a breath of a tune at best, and the blisters heal over.

 

Then Scanlan returns to her vambraces, and the silence resumes.She swears she can hear the crackle of the candle wicks, but more important is the sound of her own heartbeat.There is a gentle clank as Scanlan finishes with her right vambrace, tosses it on a settee, and moves to her left, and Pike raises her arm to make it easier. 

 

She quickly takes off her right gauntlet, dropping it on the floor, and together, they remove her remaining vambrace and pauldrons in comparative haste.She takes the right side of the ties on her cuirass while he takes the left, and the feel of his flitting fingers along her ribs makes her breath catch.

 

Then, Scanlan kneels to her shins her to take off her greaves - still silent - and the image of Scanlan on his knees with his head so close to her hips and his hands searching for the ties along the back of her legs sends Pike’s blood rushing even more to her face.

 

She knows, in the back of her head, she should be helping.She could be removing her cuisses from her thighs, removing her mail and leathers, making conversation. 

 

But there he is, quiet and focused and industrious, and Pike… well, she’s always admired the capacity to work in a person.

 

Before she can stop herself, Pike reaches out a (only barely shaking) hand and runs it through Scanlan’s messy hair, and her treacherous mind imagines another situation in this same position, and she gently pulls on the loose curls.

 

Scanlan freezes for a moment, but his breath stutters loudly in the room.

 

Still, he doesn’t speak. 

 

He snaps his fingers and her greaves untie, and Pike removes her hand from his hair like she’s been scalded, and she starts to move back, to babble an apology—

 

But instead, Scanlan’s hands move their way to the backs of her legs, the firm grip at her calves shocking her silent.

 

Slowly, he pulls her even closer to him, until his head is nearly directly at the juncture of her thighs.He leans forward and rests his forehead against the topmost border of her right cuisse, and simply… breathes.

 

Then he kisses the leather beyond the border of her armor, where the crease of her thigh and her hip would be, and she can see the barest hint of his grin even at this angle.

 

Scanlan looks up at her then, his eyes still dark and intent.One of his hands leaves the back of her leg and grabs her hand, returning it to his nest of hair. 

 

Absurdly, he waggles his eyebrows, and Pike cannot help but to giggle.Then she tugs his hair firmly, and he laughs back, breathlessly.His pupils are blown out in this dim, warm room, and his curls are stupidly soft even despite the wind and grit they’d been fighting through all day.

 

Pike bends down and presses her lips against Scanlan’s forehead, one hand still in his hair, pulling just enough to suggest his face towards hers.He huffs, and his hands move to her waist, pressing against the slight curve. 

 

_A benediction_ , she thinks helplessly, and sinks to her knees in front of him, putting them at level once again.Her hands find his face and she watches him watching her, running her thumbs along his cheekbones and the echo of his dimples, her fingers brushing along his temples and scratching gently across his hairline.

 

“I missed this face,” she whispers, feathering a kiss atop his chin. “There were times when I would try to talk to you through the earring, even though I knew you wouldn’t hear.”

 

His eyes close, like he doesn’t want to think about it, but Pike can’t help herself - this has to come out.“It was stupid how much I missed you, Scanlan, even when you hurt me.”She kisses along his jaw as his breath escapes him raggedly.“But I understand now, I think.Why you had to leave.” 

 

And she did, really.He was broken and bitter after the Chroma Conclave, and nothing the group could do or say would have fixed that, not the way they were, all wrapped up in each other.And, in a way, Pike was sickly grateful for it: the distance had put everything in perspective, as much as she hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself.

 

“I’m glad you came back,” she whispers, and rests her forehead against his.“I wouldn’t have wanted to never see you again, Scanlan Shorthalt.”

 

Scanlan’s eyes open again, and they are so close now that they share breaths. 

 

“Pike…” he says gently.And he cracks a smile, wide and toothy.“That was a really complicated sentence.”Then he leans forward a bit more, and kisses her.It’s a chaste kiss, soft and dry.His hands squeeze her waist and he scoots himself forward, between her knees, and he kisses her again, and this one is…

 

…decidedly _not_ chaste.

 

“I’m glad I came back too,” he says between breaths.Her hands are curled tightly in his hair. “You know—you know how I—” and he can’t finish what he’s saying because Pike becomes _far_ too enchanted with the fact that every time she pulls his hair she can feel his hips rock against her.

 

She giggles again, and moves her hands to Scanlan’s waist, pulling him closer, atop her, and he absolutely _groans._

 

“I know,” she says, and sets herself to work on giving Scanlan a hickey.

 

—

 

Eventually, they _do_ jump on the bed.They’re both thoroughly rumpled, and Pike has to actually take her cuisses off and Scanlan’s hair is an absolute nightmare zone, but they do end up on the ridiculous heart-shaped waterbed, intently trying to find the right timing for the waves to fling them in the air.

 

It’s fairly difficult, all things told. Scanlan tries to teach her the rhythm, but she’s always been pretty hopeless at keeping any kind of beat.Add in the odd shape of the bed (she could understand ripples in a circular pond, but in a heart? Ouch) and she finds herself wiping out more often than not.It’s not the most painful thing in the world, but it’s also not something she’d call _comfortable,_ given that there’s very little bounce.

 

After about an hour of attempts, Pike pleads tiredness, and begins tossing pillows on to the floor in a vaguely bed-shaped pattern.Scanlan tilts his head curiously, but something about the set of his mouth seems unsure.

 

“Are you… are you not going back to your room?” he asks.

 

Pike raises an eyebrow and pointedly throws another pillow onto the floor.“Do you want me to?”

 

“ _Gods_ , no,” he says, but that unsure tilt is still there. 

 

“Good,” Pike says.“Now come down here.”

 

“You don’t want to sleep on the bed?”

 

“I don’t trust the thing not to burst on me.”

 

“It’s magic.It won’t break.”

 

Pike huffs, then, and determinedly sits in the middle of the pile of pillows.“I know, Scanlan, but sometimes… I don’t know, sometimes it’s just nice to sleep on the floor.”She pats the pillow next to her.“I used to do this with Grog.Being near the ground helps sort out my thoughts, I think.”

 

Scanlan nods warily.“Second thoughts?”He’s still standing on the bed, and Pike almost wants to throw a pillow at his head, but tempers it when she sees the fear in the set of his shoulders.

 

“Never,” she says.“Join me?” 

 

He takes a moment, and in that time Pike’s terrified that he’ll back out.That he’ll throw on his brash and bold defenses, because she knows she is one of the few people who could hurt him so badly to inspire this fear, that sleeping together is more intimate than making out.

 

But he takes a deep breath, nods, and joins her in the pillow pit.As he sits, she leans back, stretching out, catching his hand.

 

“Join me?” she repeats softly.“Just to sleep, Scanlan.”

 

He looks at their entwined hands, and a smile flits across his face.It’s small and private, and his eyes are just as intent as they’d been earlier in the evening, when the two of them had eventually moved apart from each other, ostensibly to catch their breath.But Pike knows Scanlan had begun moving away first, muttering about doing it right, damn it, and she’d let him.

 

Now, she squeezes his hand, one-two-three, and pulls him down, to lay next to her.

 

“Just to sleep,” she says again.“Is this okay?” 

 

Scanlan turns on his side, looking at her carefully, and Pike wishes that even as open as he seemed to be with her, that she could read him more easily.

 

Then he settles himself on the pillows, and tugs her over until she’s tucked against him, his arms around her.He whistles a spell and the blanket is gently settled over them by some unseen servant.

 

“Is this okay?” he asks, a mirror.The candlelight is dying down, and the gleam of his eyes is difficult to make out. 

 

Pike turns her head and presses a kiss into his shoulder, and smiles against his skin as he shivers.“Yes.” He kisses her forehead, then lets out a jaw-cracking yawn.

 

“Good,” he says, voice husky with exhaustion.“Good.”He shifts slightly, turning closer into her, and slinging his other arm over her.

 

It is lovely and silent and dark in the room, and Pike amuses herself by tracing patterns across Scanlan’s collarbones, and his arms around her are solid and warm, and she feels herself growing drowsy.She’s always been quick to fall asleep, anyways, and she knows she’ll need her rest for whatever hell they’re going to face tomorrow.

 

Before she fully drifts off, she thinks: _I should really ask him on a date at some point._

 

(He beats her to it.)

 

—

 

_i said:_

_but look at your hand.the glow is enough_

_to show me the shape of your soul_

_(though your face i already know)._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> a curse to tameila, whose insistence on armor shenanigans necessitated that i research armor.
> 
> let me know what you think!


End file.
